


The Porcupine

by Piratess_of_Tortuga



Series: From Kirkwall With Love [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fenris has a very good reason to hate mages, Fenris is as difficult as always, Kirkwall, Non-Inquisitor Lavellan, The Hanged Man - Freeform, Varania makes a brief appearance and she is a bit deranged, Varric is a love doctor (or so he thinks), a bit OOC, but he is also fiery in love, this was supposed to be a comedy but...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piratess_of_Tortuga/pseuds/Piratess_of_Tortuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyra Lavellan was captured from her clan when she was a teenager and brought to Kirkwall by slavers. Now she serves as a waitress at the Hanged Man where one particularly witty and (in)famous dwarf resides. Nyra has a crush on one of his friends, the angsty Tevinter one, and, though her glances go unmarked by her crush at first, the dwarf notices it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The short story of one Lavellan's life

**Author's Note:**

> The Porcupine is one of the stories I have been working on lately. I wanted to write something including my favourite romance in DAII, namely the one with Fenris, though in this story Hawke is not the one who is after him... ;)

It was said that the Hanged Man was named after the fact that people were hanged by their feet on the spot on which the tavern was later built on. If the story was true, the name should be changed to the Slurring Man as it would be more fitting nowadays – or at least Nyra thought so. All the proposals and rather lewd suggestions she usually got in one night were less or more slurred anyway, and she didn’t get a single one of them from the only person she hoped to hear them from at the moment.

 

_*sigh*_

 

Nyra Lavellan was the second waitress at the Hanged Man. She hadn’t lived all her life in Kirkwall, though, as she was born Dalish. She had been forcefully taken away from her clan at the age of eleven by a group of slavers who had attacked their camp ten years ago. When they were passing through Kirkwall, however, they had been revealed and caught by templars. After that, the slavers had been sentenced to be hanged, and their captives freed and granted citizenship. Not knowing where to look for her clan, or other Dalish clans for the matter, Nyra too had settled in the city’s Elven Alienage and started to look for work. She had worked at a warehouse at first, but after a year – and a small incident – she had gotten fired. Forced to search for a new line of work, she had found it in the most famous tavern in all of the city – or at least it was that now that Serah Hawke and the dwarf called Varric Tethras kept their company there. To that company belonged an elf who had caught Nyra’s attention more than once: he had glowing tattoos, white hair, and, from what Nyra had gathered, he was from Tevinter. Perhaps that would explain why he was a bit taller than other elven men she had met during her years in Kirkwall?

Hah! Now _that_ was ridiculous!

Somes elves just simply were taller than others – just like humans. But the Tevinter’s face and bodyframe... Oh, those made Nyra’s heart beat so hard that she could go _mad._

                      Nyra Lavellan had never considered herself to be attracted to superficial qualities when it came to men. But perhaps... Perhaps she wasn’t now either. Dalish hunters tended to have a rather strong bodybuild in order to excel in supporting their clan. Maybe seeing the same qualities in the Tevinter warrior made memories surface in Nyra’s mind? She had been rather young when she was taken away by the slavers, but she remembered so many thing: the aravels, the clan’s Keeper, Hahren telling his stories to the children... and the vallaslin. Nyra hadn’t been old enough to get her own, so she had none. If she had gotten to choose one, she would have taken that of Andruil’s. She would have been a hunter, a proud scion of the true elves. But now the only thing that reminded her of the future denied from her were those glowing tattoos on the skin of of the man who made her heart flutter.


	2. Cherry

The sky was darkening over Kirkwall again, and the Hanged Man was full of thirsty customers. Nyra put on her grey apron, tied her long cherry coloured hair to a tight bun, and stepped out of the backroom to start her night shift. The racket in the tavern was as deafening as usual, though the amount of drunken brawls and other incidents had noticeably diminished after Corff had hired a Tal—Vashoth called Maraas as a bouncer. Anyway, when Nyra got a better view over the tavern’s lower level, she noticed that the dwarf was there, but he had only the blond-haired mage with him, and no others.

 

_Damn._

After half an hour Nora, the other waitress, ended her own shift, and Nyra was left to take care of the customers’ needs with Corff for the rest of the night. She had just delivered a pint of ale to a table near the stairs when she heard snapping of fingers.

”Waitress!” a rather familiar voice called out to her.

Nyra turned towards the table on which Varric had been playing Wicked Grace with the mage. She walked to them through a jungle of reaching hands and faltering patrons to their table, stopped beside it, and flashed a bright smile at the dwarf – he was one of the tavern’s best customers after all.

”What can I bring you, Master Tethras?” she asked politely.

”A glass of Antivan wine for me and a small pint for Blondie here, thank you”, Varric made his order, ”and put it on my tab, will you?”

”Of course”, Nyra ratified and quickly went to the back of the barcounter to fullfill the order.

She picked up a wooden tray, put the glass and the pint on it, and returned to the dwarf and the mage.

”Here you are”, she said as she placed their drinks on the table.

”Thank you”, the mage thanked her with a warm voice and smiled.

”You’re welcome, Serah”, she smiled back.

                      When Nyra was about to turn away and make a note on Corff’s ledger, she was stopped by an unexpected comment.

”Don’t worry, Cherry”, Varric told her, ”he’ll be here in any minute.”

Nyra stared at him, her mouth agape, and her face turning to a shade of red that could outshine her hair color anytime.

”I – I don’t know what you’re talking about, Master Tethras”, she said hastily and turned to walk away.

And as she went, she heard an amused titter from behind her and Varric saying: ”I told you she had a crush on him.”

 

The rest of the night, despite the circumstances, went rather smoothly at first. True to Varric’s words, the Tevinter had arrived to the Hanged Man shortly after Nyra had served the drinks. She had been summoned by their group twice after that, and when she had dared to glance at the other elf, the dwarf and the mage had started to quietly cackle. Their gesture had made the Tevinter a bit confused and irritated, but as for Nyra, it had made her noticeably embarrassed. After making her hasty retreat, she had kept her gaze low, avoiding to even look at the infamous table. And after she finally got to take off her apron and call it for the night, she sighed out of relief, went home, and straight to the bed.

_What an awful evening.... Oh, please hang me._

***

 

It was midday when Nyra’s head peeked out of the door leading to her small apartment. She grabbed a basket from the top of a drawer, headed out, and closed the door after her. She wouldn’t need to go far for food as the Alienage had a market of its own.

_Let’s see... Fish, I need fish!_

Nyra headed to a stall shielded from weather with blue cloth. Its counter was over-flowing with different kinds of fish: salmon, bass, flatfish...

_Perhaps I’ll take..._

”Could I have that small bass on the left, please?” she requested from the shopkeeper.

The city elf wrapped her order in a package woven out of elfroot and offered it to her.

”That’d be two coppers.”

Nyra reached for her leather waistbag to get the money for the shopkeeper before receiving the fish.

”Here you are”, she said as she dropped two coins to the man’s open hand, took the fish, and placed it in her basket.

”Thank you”, he thanked her, ”have a good day.”

A friendly smile spread across Nyra’s lips.

”I will.”

_I hope._

As if the shopkeeper’s words had been a bad omen, Nyra got to realise that her day wouldn’t be a particularly normal one. When she was heading to the next stall which was located near the exit of the Alienage, she noticed that Hawke was descending the stairs with his group of three consisting of Varric, the Rivaini rogue, and the white-haired warrior. Of course, _of course_ it had to be the man who made Nyra’s heartbeat rise and the two _worst_ loudmouths Hawke kept company with! She turned around to head to another stall, but it was too late as she already heard someone call out to her.

”Hey, Cherry, wait up!”

 

_Fenedhis._

Nyra’s pace came to a halt as she slowly turned to face the group that Varric was now leading towards her. She forced herself to silence the knacking feeling of awkwardness inside her head and put on a friendly smile.

”Master Tethras”, she greeted the dwarf and then smiled to the others too.

When Nyra saw that the Tevinter gazed at her intently from behind his hair, she blushed and lowered her gaze for a moment before turning back to Varric.

”Did you want to talk about something?” she inquired while struggling to calm her racing mind.

”We’re tracking a man called Huon”, the dwarf explained, ”have you seen him?”

 _Huon,_ Nyra tried to recall, _where have I heard that name before?_

”Do you mean Nyssa’s husband?” she asked after a while.

”That’s our guy.”

”No, I haven’t, sorry”, Nyra shook her head at first but then turned to point to a stall where a brown-haired elven woman sold dresses and cloth, ”but you can find Nyssa there.”

Before the group left, Hawke spoke out: ”Thank you for your help, miss...?”

”Nyra Lavellan”, she introduced herself with a smile.

”You hear that, Fenris?” Varric immediately called out to the Tevinter, ”what a lovely name to have, don’t you think?”

”Shut up, Varric”, the elf growled, ”you’re embarrassing her.”

And so he surely was: Nyra’s face flashed as red as the lanterns infront of the Blooming Rose.

”I...” she began insecurely, ”I have to go now. Hopefully I was of help to you. Good day, Serah.”

 

And once again, while Nyra was making her hasty retreat, she heard amused titter from behind her.

”She really likes you, Fenris”, she heard the Rivaini woman giggle, ”don’t you see that?”

The Tevinter let out a frustrated grunt.

”Shut up, Isabela.”

 

***

 

The whole day had been a mess. Nyra had been so confused by the incident at the market that she had forgotten to buy other food beside the small bass. It had ended up half-cooked on the pan, but she had eaten it nonetheless. For the rest of the day before her evening shift, she had sitten on her bed with Fenris’ name echoing in her mind, still feeling the burning of his green gaze on her skin. On some point she had heard a knock on the door with a faint voice introducing the knocker as ”Merrill”. Nyra hadn’t opened the door, waiting quietly for the would-be guest to go away instead. And when the sun had reached the point of afternoon, she had put on her working dress and hidden a dagger to a leather strap tied against her left thigh as she always did – just in case.

 

Hopefully this evening would go more smoothly than last night.


	3. Blood magic

The evening on the tavern had been as eventful and full of racket as ever. Nyra had headed home after Nora had showed up for their changing of shifts. Now that she stood at the top of the stairs leading to the Alienage, she felt an unpleasant shiver running along her skin. It was quiet, _too_ quiet.

_Something is wrong._

Nyra slowed her pace, continued to descend the stairs with light steps, and took a peek around the last corner before the market square.

Nothing.

But when she stood on the lowest step of the stairs, she distinguished two elven figures amidst the shadowy lights of the Alienage: a man and a woman. When Nyra focused her gaze on the woman, she recognized her as Nyssa. But who was...?

                      Suddenly Nyra’s thoughts were disrupted when she saw how Nyssa started soaring into the air. She was immediately alarmed and dashed towards the two elves.

”Release her!” she yelled while she readied to tackle Nyssa’s attacker.

She didn’t stop although the stranger turned his grimacing face to her, his eyes glowing with magic.

”Huon, plea..” Nyssa tried to beg with an asphyxiated voice, but her sentence died out when the mage clenched his raised hand into a fist, releasing her body from his grasp and letting her to drop to a large pool of blood. The sight made Nyra feel incredulous. Did Nyssa’s own husband just kill her? Realising the state of affairs, the young elf let out an enraged yell and continued to rush towards Huon. But before she even reached him, she was thrown back by a spellblast.

”Come to feed my powers, have you?” the mage bellowed with an unnatural voice, ”how polite of you!”

 

_Shit._

Huon raised both of his hands in the air and a black mist spread across the ground out which shades started to rise. Nyra jumped to her feet and reached for her dagger. She heard Huon’s manical laughter when one enormous shade appeared before her. Fear tried to clench her heart, but she ignored it, changed her stance, and held her dagger steadily in her right hand - ready to defend herself.

”Come and get me, you piece of demonic shit”, she hissed.

As the shade loomed over her, ready to strike, she heard swishing of arrows and clanking of armor. With a bright flash, a white-haired warrior appeared between Nyra and the shade.

”Touch her and I’ll hack you to pieces, demon”, the warrior growled darkly while raising his long two-handed sword for a strike.

 

_Fenris._

The shades were sent back to the void one by one until there were no adversaries left except for the blood mage himself. Varric aimed at him with his crossbow, while Hawke stood right before him with Isabela. Fenris, however, wasn’t with them as he was standing infront of Nyra and shielding her from Huon’s possible attacks. She couldn’t help herself but to stare at him, her mouth agape and her silvery eyes glimmering with astonishment.

_Why does he protect me?_

While Nyra focused on guessing the warrior’s motives, Hawke cornered Huon to Nyssa’s stall near which her lifeless body still lied.

”It’s over”, the Champion declared firmly, ”surrender and we’ll take you back to the templars.”

”Never!” the mage bellowed and readied his staff to cast a deadly spell.

Hawke grapped his battlestaff, ready to counter Huon’s spell, but it was needless as a short arrow swished thought the air and hit the blood mage right between his eyes. Huon dropped his staff, reeled, and fell backwards to the ground. Hawke waited a moment before he placed his staff back to the sheath on his back and took assertive steps towards Huon.

”Is that bastard dead yet, Hawke?” Varric shouted to him.

”Yes, he is”, the Champion replied after examining the mage carefully.

                      When the others started to draw closer to the stall, Fenris sheathed his sword and turned around to face Nyra who was still staring at him as if in trance.

”Are you alright?” the warrior asked, ”did he hurt you?”

”I...” she began, finding herself at a loss of words for a moment, ”no, he did not.”

A small smile crept over the warrior’s face, and there was a strange tendernesss to his gaze though his features otherwise seemed a bit serious and rigid.

”Good, I was afraid that something happened to you before I got the chance to ask you if...” his sentence died out.

Nyra’s eyes were lit to a silvery flame of curiosity and hope as she gazed at him and cocked her head.

”To ask me what?” she encouraged him after a moment of silence.

”I...”

”Oh, bollocks”, the Rivaini exclaimed suddenly, obviously having listened to their conversation while standing by the stall, ”just ask her out already!”

                      Hearing the rogue’s words made Fenris grimace. At that moment Nyra forgot all her awkwardness and fears, and when she saw the warrior turning away from her in frustration and embarrassment, she dropped the dagger and reached for his face with her right hand.

”It’s alright, Fenris”, she soothed him while saying his name aloud for the first time made her shiver herself, ”you can ask me anything.”

_Bold words for a stranger_ , she thought to herself briefly, but continued to stare the warrior with determination.

Fenris’ eyes moved fervently to and fro as he returned her gaze.

”I... I’m sorry about your friend”, was all he managed to say to her, lowering his gaze not to look at her, in shame.

Nyra let her hand drop from his cheek, not in dissappointment, but in realisation and horror.

” _Sweet Sylaise_ ”, her whisper was barely audible.

_Nyssa._

Nyra was torn between two different feelings: her yearning to hear Fenris speak to her again, and the sorrow for the woman she had known since settling to the Alienage. Despite the situation, she had let the first one take over the latter, but now that she was woken to reality, she stepped pass the Tevinter warrior and ran to Nyssa. She kneeled beside the brown-haired elf woman whose eyes were glazed by Huon’s spell and skin turned pale as blood had escaped her veins. The fabric of Nyra’s dress got slowly soaked in blood as she lifted Nyssa’s lifeless head to her lap.

”I’m so sorry I wasn’t here in time to save you, Nyssa”, she said with a shaking voice though no tears came.

Nyra hadn’t cried since the slavers had taken her. Perhaps it had left her somewhat emotionally damaged, but she felt sorry for Nyssa right now, nonetheless. How could her own husband do this to her, to kill her to gain more power? A sudden feeling of anger seethed within Nyra’s heart as she carefully closed the other elf’s eyes and lowered her head back to the ground before standing up herself and focusing her gaze on Hawke.

”Thank you for rescuing me and avenging Nyssa, Serah”, she thanked him.

”I think you should thank Fenris and Varric for those things, miss Lavellan”, the Champion replied, ”but you’re welcome.”

_”Miss Lavellan”_ _? Hah, he truly is Fereldan._

”You should go and rest now”, Hawke continued, breaking her sudden train of thought, ”we’ll take care of Huon and Nyssa.”

Nyra gave him a faint tired smile and nodded her head slowly.

”Perhaps I should. Thank you again, Serah.”

 

When Nyra turned away, she didn’t hear tittering, giggling, or anything like that, instead feeling Fenris’ sad gaze on her until she reached the door to her apartment and vahished behind it.

 

_Ir abelas._

***

 

Nyra was exhausted. It was dawn already, and she had slept only a little last night, mostly staying awake while thinking about Huon and Nyssa. How could a man be so cruel and cold that he killed his own wife without hesitation? And for what? To empower his spells temporarily? Nyra remembered the three mages of her clan: the Keeper, the First, and the Healer. They had always used their magic to help their clan and family. But this blood magic she had only heard of till now seemed to drive mages mad and incited them to uncomprehensible acts. But why did they resort to such acts in the first place? Out of madness? Out of desperation?

*sigh*

_This is useless,_ Nyra told herself, _it won’t bring Nyssa back or undo what has already happened._

People would always be cruel for various reasons, and however much the memory of the last night’s incident tried to invade Nyra’s mind, she blocked it away. She would be on a night shift today, and she needed energy for it. If she couldn’t sleep, she could always take a walk and catch some fresh air.

 

Nyra had walked along Kirkwall’s streets since getting out of the bed. She had ended up wandering the docks, and while standing there and gazing over the Waking Sea, she had felt wistful. She had no idea where here parents and her brother were right now. Were they still alive? What about the clan? Nyra had lost herself in her thoughts and stood still, adamantly defying the cold wind that came from the sea. No one had bothered her there, so she had had a good long while to clear up her mind. The memories of her old life had come and gone, the horrors of last night already nearly forgotten, and Fenris... When she had though of him, there had been no place for nothing else as there rarely was when the image of him rose to her mind. What had he tried to tell her in the Alienage last night? That he wanted her to stop drooling after him, or perhaps that he wanted to ask her to a date? That question had made Nyra’s cheeks blush and a shiver of fear run through her body all at the same time. Well, perhaps she would see him at the Hanged Man tonight?

 

After leaving the docks and wandering the city’s streets a while, Nyra had bought herself ingredients for a meal and gone home to eat and relax. She still had a long night before her, and Corff wouldn’t surely be pleased if she showed up for her shift with her eyes crossed and tired, or worse: that she didn’t show up at all. And Nyra’s pride couldn’t just take that, could it?


	4. It was the dwarf

The Hanged Man was especially full tonight. Today had been the payday for the local miners, and they made the most of it like many times before. When Nora had ended her own shift, Nyra had had her hands full of work every moment ever since: pouring and serving drinks, cleaning up the tables, asking Maraas to throw the most grumpiest – and the most drunken – patrons out of the tavern... What a perfect day not to get a good night’s sleep the night before, wasn’t it? But with Corff serving the drinks behind the counter, Nyra managed to take care of the rest of the rather thirsty customers. But what she wasn’t able to do was to notice that something was missing: surprisingly, there was no Varric, no Hawke...  Just a pair of green eyes which stared at her from a shadowy corner while she moved among the crowd.

                      By the time the sun took its first peek over the horizon every last patron had made their way out of the tavern with Maraas’ help or just on their own wobbly feet, and Nyra was left to clean the mess they had left on the tables. When she stopped to lean to one of them with her back facing the tavern’s main door, she was so exhausted that she didn’t hear the footsteps that came nearer until they stopped behind her.

”I’m amazed how you manage to do all that everytime”, a deep voice noted suddenly.

Nyra was startled. She turned around to see to whom the voice belonged to, but she did so too quickly, stumbled upon a stool that was next to her feet. and fell sidewards. Before she hit the floor, however, a pair of strong arms caught her and drew her against an armored chest.

”I didn’t mean to startle you”, the voice continued, ”I’m sorry... Nyra.”

Nyra shivered when she looked up at Fenris who had just said her name aloud for the first time.

”It’s okay”, she managed to gather the words, ”I just thought that everyone else had already left.”

”I didn’t, you can blame Varric for that.”

_What?_  

”Oh? Has Master Tethras something to do with this?”

”Yes”, Fenris admitted straight out, ”he has told me a hundred times and over how you look at me when I’m here. So, in order to quiet him, I agreed to wait for you here.”

_Oh._

”So you’re here just that he wouldn’t bother you anymore?” Nyra asked in  disappointment.

”No”, the warrior replied and tightened the hold of his arms around her, ”if that had been the case, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

”Eh... Did I just miss something? You came here to meet me to get Varric off your back, but you wouldn’t have come if....”

_*umph*_

                      Before Nyra got to finish her sentence, Fenris sealed her mouth with a kiss. Her eyes went wide with surprise at first, but after that passed, she closed them and tasted his lips eagerly as if they were the sweetest nectar. Fenris kissed Nyra with passion so fiery that it made her wonder whether he had surpressed it for quite a while which, on the other hand, would mean that _something_ didn’t add up. Had he yearned for her like she had yearned for him? Now that he had his lips on hers with his tongue trying to invade her mouth, the answer seemed to be a definite _maybe_. Nyra was still a bit baffled by the unexpected turn of events, but she chose to indulge the moment, and as the kiss deepened, she forgot everything else as the only thing she wanted now was Fenris and his warm and rugged touch. By the time their lips finally separated, Nyra had nearly run out of air while the warrior didn’t seem to have any need to catch his breath.

”Do you still think that I came here just to silence Varric?” he asked her with a smirk.

”No”, Nyra gasped and delved into the depths of his green eyes.

”Good”, he hummed and leaned in to kiss her again.

 

And although the sun was already slowly rising, and Nyra hadn’t slept properly for the last two days, she didn’t feel tired at all.

 

After hanging her apron back to its rack Nyra had left the tavern with Fenris who had taken her for a walk to Hightown. The thugs who stalked upon unwary travelers and citizens at night had already hidden from the guards’ morning patrol so there were no sudden interruptions. Thought their meeting had had a rather surprising and passionate start, Fenris held Nyra’s hand now like true gentleman – a _mysterious_ gentleman, that is. He made her feel intrigued with every word he spoke, and his gaze made her skin tingle and burn as if a group firesprites walked on it. They had discussed mainly of trivialities so far, but now that they reached a door in the higher level of Hightown, Fenris slowed down and stopped infront of an elaborate though a bit rundown mansion.

”Here’s where I live at the moment”, he told her, ”do you want to see it?”

Nyra let her eyes wander along the front wall of the building before turning her gaze to Fenris.

_Should I?_ she wondered, but it was only her voice of reason speaking because she knew the answer already.

”Lead the way.”

                      After a small modest vestibule the two elves entered a great main hall. Fenris was used to it, obviously, but Nyra’s eyes went wide with amazement: she had never seen anything like this.

_So many paintings... and the carpet! It looks as soft as..._

”Do you mind if I take my shoes off here?” Nyra asked suddenly.

Fenris furrowed at her odd question, but then gave her his permission.

”Of course.”

Hearing him oblige, Nyra immediately took off her shoes, not even bothering to place them neatly by the wall, and touched the softness of the mat with her feet, making her face brighten up noticeably. Fenris, on the other hand, cocked his head questioningly.

”Is there something special about the carpet?” he inquired, perplexed.

Nyra blinked and turned her gaze from the floor back to him.

”Oh, I’m sorry”, she explained, ”it just feels like fresh soft grass. That feeling is... distantly familiar to me.”

”’Soft grass’”, the warrior repeated, ”so you are Dalish.”

His sentence had been a statement, not a question.

”Why do you believe so?” she asked him as if her origin was some shameful secret **.**

”The city elves don’t take so much joy in the things of nature as the Dalish do because our every day life is purely about survival, as you know.”

_Hmm..._

”That sounds logical”, Nyra admitted, ”but I think that there is something you’re not telling me.”

Fenris gave a laugh **.**

”Very perceptive of you.”

”Every Dalish has to be perceptive so that the humans won’t catch us.”

”You say that, but still, here you are. What happened to you?”

                      Nyra felt a painful clench in her heart. She had pushed the memories of the day when she was taken away from her clan deep to the darkest depths of her mind. She tried to speak and answer Fenris’ question, but no words came out. She stared towards him like there was nothing but emptiness in his place.

”Nyra?” the warrior asked after a moment of silence, ”are you alright?”

No, Nyra was not okay. It felt as if his simple question had paralyzed her. Fenris waved his hand infront of her, but she didn’t react to it. Seeing her state, he touched her left cheek gently to draw her away from her waking nightmare.

”Nyra?” he called her name again though this time his voice was considerably softer.

She finally reacted to his efforts by raising her shaking hand and pressing it lightly on his. 

”Could I”, her voice was nothing but a weak whisper, ”could I sleep here, please?”

                      Instead of answering Nyra’s plea, Fenris dropped his hand from her cheek, raised her to his arms, and started to carry her upstairs like a groom carries his bride. At the top of the stairs there were three rooms of which he carried her to the one in the middle. She didn’t see the interior properly as her eyesight was a bit hazy due to exhaustion caused by sleepless nights and fighting her surpressed memories, but she distinguished a large fireplace and an ornate bed to which she was carried to. The warrior layed her gently on the soft matress and drew a blanket over her.

”Thank you, Fenris”, she whispered, her eyes half-lidded as she rested her head on the plush pillow.

”Don’t mention it”, Fenris soothed her, ”sleep tightly, spirit of the forest.”

Nyra manage a smile before closing her eyes.

”Ma serannas.”


	5. The nightmare

A jolly laughter echoed along the riverbank as children ran by it. A Dalish clan had made a temporary camp at the Storm Coast before continuing their journey to the east to travel around the Waking Sea **.** The Keeper, Deshanna, was discussing with her First about something relating to their travelling route – perhaps scouting ahead. Hahren Nolan was telling his stories to the teenagers in hopes that they would actually learn something from them. One girl, however **,** sat separate from them on a large rock staring at the halla, each of them white as pure snow, their horns like twisted wooden branches, and their posture noble. Nyra hugged her knees to her chest while staring at the herd bewitched. She would never hunt the halla, and if she encountered any shemlen who tried to hurt them, she would shoot arrows right into their arrogant arses. Nyra reached for her bow which lied on the rock beside her. She caressed its arch with her nimble fingers before she grabbed it, drew an arrow from the quiver on her back, and turned right to shoot a nearby tree. The herd started to move restlessly, but a lithe figure of a woman appeared to calm them down before anything more serious took place.

”You should be ashamed, da’len”, she scolded the younger elf, ”the halla are our friends, we shouldn’t scare them needlessly.”

”But I have to be ready for anything, Balora”, Nyra insisted, ”that tree could have been a shemlen, and what kind of hunter would I be if I didn’t protect the clan _and_ the halla from them?”

”You’re not a hunter yet, da’len”, the older elf hummed, ”but your time will come..”

”And when it comes, I will take the vallaslin of Andruil”, Nyra declared.

Balora hummed again.

”I’m sure that you’ll make the Huntress very proud, da’len.”

 

And that was when the nightmare began.

 

An arrow flew silently through the air, hitting the clan’s Halla Keeper right between her eyes. Balora fell backwards, her eyes wide open, and started to twich on the ground. After another arrow hit one of the halla to its left side, the rest of the herd broke havoc and fled towards the shoreline. Two humans ran after them while another two remained near the rock on which Nyra sat. She stared at Balora’s motionless body in sheer horror, but soon she turned her face towards the men infront of her.

”You dirty-blooded shems”, she snarled at them like a furious wolf and reached for a new arrow, ” Ar tu na'lin emma assan.”  

”What are you going to do with that bow, girl?” the other man laughed while the other one started to move away from him.

Nyra saw the latter one’s intentions and shot him to his right shoulder, making him scream in pain.

”You’re not going anywhere, shem”, she hissed and reached for another arrow.

The rest of the clan was too far to reach the site quickly if they had even noticed anything yet. Or perhaps there were more of these bastards lurking near the aravels? Nyra had to act: she would kill these two first, make run for the camp to warn her clan, and _then_ she would hunt down the men who had chased after the halla. But when the young hunter was going to arch her bow again, a string with two pebbles attached to each end flew towards her and curled around her body like a snake. The bow fell off her hand, and the man who she had shot just a moment before ran to her and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.

”Scream all you want, girl”, he said devilishly, ”I’ll make you obedient yet.”

 

_Wake up... Wake up!_

 

***

 

A scream echoed in the bedroom that was illuminated only by a few candles. After a moment of disorientation, Nyra began to desperately gasp for breath. She was covered in sweat and her heart was racing. When she turned to look around, she noticed Fenris who was standing in the doorway.

”Bad dreams?” he asked and started to walk towards the bed.

Still trying to steady her breathing, Nyra gave him a nod. The warrior sat on the edge of the bed so that they were face to face with each other.

”Do you want to talk about it?”

”I”, she struggled for words for a moment, turning her gaze away from him, ”I just saw a dream in which the slavers...”

Her words faded away, but she had already caught Fenris’ rapt attention with one particular word.

”’Slavers’?” he repeated.

Nyra’s eyes glistened with tears when she nodded miserably.

”I was taken away from my clan when we were resting at the northern coast of Ferelden. I was watching the halla when the slavers came **.** They killed Balora, our Halla Keeper, and drove the herd away. I resisted, but they managed to capture me nonetheless.”

Fenris listened to her quietly, giving her a chance to continue her story, but she didn’t.

”What happened?” he encouraged her with his deep voice that soothed her a bit.

Nyra closed her eyes, shedding a single long-held tear for her painful memories, and lowered her dress’ collar on the side of her left arm.

”This happened.”

                      Fenris’ eyes widened a little when he caught the first glimpse of Nyra’s left shoulder. There were several crosslike cuts on it, going down her arm before finally disappearing under the sleeve of her dress.

”They cut you?” he furrowed in realisation **.**

”They did, every time I disobeyed their orders – and I did that alot”, she gave a short tearful laugh.

Fenris raised her chin with his right hand and stared her piercingly with his green eyes.

”Don’t blame yourself for resisting them”, he told her, ”no-one should ever be forced to go through something like that.”

Nyra gave him a weary smile and another laugh escaped her.

”I don’t remember everything before coming to Kirkwall”, she continued, ”I shot one of the slavers, and after they caught me, he was the one to knock me unconcisious.”

Fenris frowned, came closer to her, and drew her to his arms.

”For what’s it worth, I’m sorry for your suffering”, he comforted her while stroking her hair gently, ”had I been there, I would never have let them hurt you.”

                      Nyra nestled herself deeper into Fenris’ embrace and a small smile crept over her lips. It felt good to finally speak to someone about what had happened to her in Ferelden years ago. Obviously this was only the first step in the healing of the scars she had carried sealed in her heart for so long, but when she was there, in Fenris’ arms **,** she had a hunch that the torch she held for the days to come would banish away the darkness of her past.


	6. What’s in the past won’t just stay there

The Hanged Man was surprisingly quiet considering the time of the day, but it was only fitting for Nyra who was working the evening shift. Thanks to Corf who took care of the few customers who ordered drinks now and then, she had found time to sit on Fenris’ lap from time to time. They had been meeting each other every day for a month since her nightmare, and everytime she was at work, he would come to wait for the end of her shift. This time the warrior had come to spend an evening with Hawke and some of his companions, and when Nyra had sitten on his lap for the fourth time, he had grabbed her by the waist, not letting her leave ever since.

                      As the evening progressed, Nyra had gotten to hear a dozen of intriguing stories about Hawke and his adventures.

”...the witch brought us here, and so, here I am”, he finished the tale of how he had ended up in Kirkwall.

”That story never tires me!” Varric exclaimed, ”you are a remarkable storyteller, Hawke, you should write a book about it: ’The tale of the Champion’.”

”I think I’ll just leave that to you, Varric”, Hawke replied and laughed heartily.

”And what do you have for me?” Isabela cooed beside him, leaning to his left shoulder and caressing his cheek invitingly with her fingers.

Hawke smirked.

”A bedtime story exclusively made for my pirate queen.”

”I’m feeling a bit tired alredy... Couldn’t you tell it to me now?”

                      Seeing how the two carried on and lost themselves to their romantic advances, Varric chuckeled, shook his head, and turned towards Nyra and Fenris who sat at the end of the table.

”So”, he began with a wide grin on his face, ”how is the young elven love flourishing?”

Fenris groaned while Nyra covered her mouth with her right palm and started to titter.

”Oh, don’t be so grumpy, Broody”, Varric continued, ”after all, don’t I deserve a bit of credit for the happiness you two doves now have?”

Nyra guided the warrior’s gaze towards herself instead of Varric, making it soften instantly **.**

”He is right, Fenris”, she soothed him, ”I couldn’t muster my courage enough to come to you. If he hadn’t guided you to me, I doubt we would be here now.”

She gave him a loving smile which he returned and pressed his forehead to hers.

”I’m sorry Varric”, Fenris said to the dwarf without detaching his gaze from Nyra’s, ”I am very happy, all thanks to you.”

”Don’t mention it.”

 

Neither of the elves heard Varric’s words as Fenris descended his lips on Nyra’s. While the rogue chuckeled softly and winked to Anders who had sitten beside him the whole evening, the front door was opened. No one paid any attention to the men who casually entered the tavern, but the last one made the whole group, the white-haired warrior in particular, turn their attention to the door when he spoke.

”Ah, my little Fenris, how good to see that you are alright after all these years.”

 

Nyra felt how Fenris’ muscles tensed when he broke the kiss and turned to face the grey-haired mage who had entered the Hanged Man after the other men. His green eyes were lit with a flame of pure anger so intense that it was unlike anything Nyra hadn’t seen in him before.

”Danarius”, he growled.

Nyra glanced first at Fenris and then at the man he had just called by name.

_Who is he?_

Some of the patrons moved closer to the walls when the ten armed men started to spread around the tavern’s first floor.

”Now, now, Fenris”, Danarius spoke casually, ”I see that you have had fun while running free. Who is this lovely young maiden anyway?”

Nyra felt how the warrior tightened his hold around her waist.

”Leave her out of this”, his growl turned into a furious snarl **.**

While Danarius laughed to his words, Hawke stood up and grabbed his staff **,** ready for battle.

”Leave this tavern”, the Champion told him adamantly, ”Fenris isn’t your slave anymore.”

                      After hearing what Hawke had just said, Nyra’s heart missed a beat.

 _”Slave”?_ she repeated in her mind and turned to watched at the old mage again, _and this man is – **was –** his master? _

Fenris had never mentioned that he had been a slave, but it wasn’t hard to understand why he hadn’t wanted to talk to her about it. Two silvery eyes glanced at the Tevinter warrior, and when she saw the depths of hate he held for the old mage, she knew that this encounter couldn’t be solved peacufully. While Varric and the other members of the group rose up and followed the Champion’s example by grapping their weapons, Fenris just held Nyra more tightly and glared at Danarius.

”I understand why you are jealous”, the old mage told Hawke after an amused laughter, ”the lad is rather skilled, isn’t he?”

Suddenly Nyra noticed how Fenris’ rage leveled and his tattoos started to glow blue. His hold on her waist loosened when he helped her up, and after standing up himself, shielded her with his body. 

”Shut your mouth, Danarius”, he growled between his teeth while he drew his sword from its sheet.

Danarius sighed deeply. He had obviously had this conversation with his former slave more than once.

”The word is _master_.”

 

The words spoken by the Tevinter mage made the situation burst into chaotic flames of battle. One of the ten men under his command arched his bow and shot an arrow right towards Hawke. The Champion cast a barrier to protect himself from the incoming attack and created a fire rune under his adversary, scorching the poor bastard alive **.** While Varric, Anders, and Isabela aimed their interests to the other remaining men, Fenris stared his former master adamantly and dashed forward with a flash. Nyra watched as his sword crashed against the mage’s barrier. He continued his attack tirelessly, swinging his sword like an executioner’s cleaver, but the defense of the hazy magical shield held its ground. Nyra didn’t know how long such barriers usually lasted, but it had to dissipate after its caster ran out of mana at the latest, or... Her hand wandered to the hidden dagger she had purchased to replace the one she had dropped and lost in the Alienage. Perhaps she could disrupt Danarius’ focus?

                      The element of surprise was the key to success, but as Nyra soon found out, it was rather far-fetched if one got surprised first. She had barely managed to draw her dagger from its sheat when she felt a burning touch against her throat. There were no weapons **-** just a touch of hand. Magic?  

”Drop it”, someone ordered her **.**

Nyra felt how her heart started racing, and she swallowed nervously. The others were still battling with the old mage and his few remaining men and hadn’t noticed her sudden plight.

”Drop it”, the order was now a vicious hiss.

                      Nyra tightened her grip on the dagger at first but eventually dropped it to the floor **.** It surely wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but she felt somewhat paralyzed by the situation. How the slavers had captured her, hurt her... Nyra’s eyes went blind for reality when the memories raced inside her head like a drama. She felt how a sudden fear started to clench her heart like a hungry giant spider spinning its web around her. Standing several feet away from her, Varric shot the last one of Danarius’ men, and catching a glimple of her situation in the process, turned to look at her with his eyes telling of surprise and shock.

”Look here, Leto!” the woman behind her suddenly raised her voice, making sure that everyone heard her and she got their wrapt attention, ”I have something that belongs to _you_.”

 

The whole tavern fell silent as if time itself had stopped. Hawke, Isabela, and Anders looked as surprised as Varric did, Danarius looked as smug as one ever could, and Fenris... The warrior’s skin seemed to have turned as white as his hair, the gaze in his eyes utterly distraught. But his reaction wasn’t solely due to seeing Nyra threatened: his eyes were focused on the woman behind her.

”Varania?” he spoke the name aloud incredulously while visibly going through a wide range of emotions from surpise to anger, ”what...? why are you...?”

Fenris seemed lost for a moment, but he was still holding his sword high in the air, ready for an intended strike. After grasping some of the situation, his brow furrowed and his stance changed back from wavering to threatening.

” _Let her go_ ”, he growled **,** his eyes blazing with newly discovered fury.

”He growls, but does he bite?” Varania scorned him, ”don’t forget, brother, that I hold the winning prize now, and I can destroy her with a mere touch of my fingers.”

                      Nyra’s face distorted from pain when Fenris’ sister burned her skin to prove her words, but she didn’t yell. She felt paralyzed by her surfacing memories: the slavers, how they caught her, how they cut her, how they... Nyra’s silvery eyes resembled coloured glass as those painful images from her past continued to flash before her. It was happening again: someone was threatening her life, and she was helpless. Amidst all that, however, the picture of Fenris appeared before her: he was on his knees, his shoulders were slumped, and his head bowed in an acknowledged defeat **.**

_He’s surrendering..._

”Vhenan”, a silent whisper escaped Nyra’s lips while Varania still held her, watching how Fenris and others dropped their weapons helplessly to the floor.

Danarius was smirking behind them with visible self-satisfaction.

”Now, there’s a good boy”, he praised Fenris like a pet.

 

And right then, something _snapped._

Nyra blinked and shook her head so violently that her captor was taken by surprise. Varania’s fingers began to slip from her throat, trying to release one last spell, but the mage’s would-be victim was quicker, and the spell made her skin only redden a bit. Nyra’s learned Dalish reflexes took over her body after years of slumber. She twirled around like a whirlwind and knocked her adversary off balance. She could hear how the silence caused by consternation turned into sounds of battle behind her again. It would be the end of Danarius, but what about Varania? Perhaps Nyra shouldn’t try to kill her, she was Fenris’ sister after all, but the blood that rushed now in her veins boiled hot like the rage that drives a wounded beast **.** She wouldn’t submit to any threat ever again. _Ever_.

                      As Varania lied on the floor, Nyra got the upper hand in their fight. She reached forward to grab her adversary’s hands to prevent her from launching any spell, but the mage hadn’t settled for the part of the weaker opponent. Before Nyra was able to even to touch her, she grabbed the dropped dagger from the floor and slashed the younger elf’s face with it. Luckily, though reaching from Nyra’s lower left cheek to the eyebrow on the right side of her face, the cut wasn’t deep. She took a step back, holding the wound instinctively with her hand, only to be sent falling backwards by a spellblast made by Varania. When her head hit the floor, she heard Fenris’ voice which vanished in an echo when her ears started to buzz due to the pressure wave she had experienced. Nyra saw how Varania began to prowl towards her like a powerful predator preparing to finish its helpless prey. But then she heard Fenris’ voice again, and after a flash, he was already standing infront of her, impaling his sister with the edge of his sword.

”I though that freedom would change you”, the warrior’s voice rumbled like a distant thunder **,** ”but I was wrong, _so very wrong_.”

                      The light in Varania’s eyes dimmed and her lips tried to form one last word when her brother’s sword reached and pierced her heart. Her body jerked a couple of times while he watched her life slip away with his eyes nearly in tears.

”I’m sorry, sister”, he whispered before he drew his sword out of her lifeless body, letting it collapse to the floor which was already red from blood **.**

The warrior stood still for a moment, grieving for what had to be done, before he turned around to face his former master with his sadness turning immediately into undescribable anger.

 

And while she still held the last remnants of her consciousness, Nyra was sure that she heard how the wolf actually _growled_ deep from his throat.

 

Danarius had been forced to kneel after the sudden downfall of his apprentice and was now guarded by Hawke and Isabela. With every step Fenris became closer to his former master, his friends backed away, anticipating what was to come. There was a green fire burning fervently in the warrior’s eyes as his tattoos started to glow, and his hand surged towards Danarius like a snake. It went right through him, and the magister became just an old man to whom death came in a form of a hand of  vengeance.

” ** _You_** _are no longer my **master**_ ”,  Fenris snarled before he crushed Danarius’ heart, drew his hand away, and kicked him to the floor.

The magister’s body didn’t even twitch anymore, and the white-haired elf’s life-long struggle against him was finally over.

But what about...?

 

” _Nyra_!”

 

Fenris turned around as if blinded to everything else and ran to Nyra who was still lying on the floor with a spreading bloodstreak covering her face and her whole body aching. Varric was taking care of her and holding her head on his lap **,** had been from the moment Fenris had marched to Danarius. Fenris crouched beside Nyra but seemed incapable of doing anything else. His eyes told that he was utterly worried about her, but when he was about to reach for her with his right hand **,** he held back. Varric gazed at his friend questioningly. Why didn’t he just take her to hold her in his own arms instead?

                      Nyra was barely aware of what was going on around her. She heard Fenris’ voice, but she wasn’t able to react to it properly, her consciousness nearly lost to her and her coordination absent **.** She saw only the blurry figure of Fenris’ hand and nothing more **.**

”Nyra, I...” the warrior’s every word was a struggle, ”I...”

Varric stared at his friend, his expression a mix of sadness, understanding, and slight confusion.

”Fenris, she needs help”, he told him, ”maybe Hawke or Anders can...”

” _No!_ ” the warrior exclaimed, ”no magic!”

”She needs healing, Fenris”, Anders stepped forth, ”I now that we don’t always see eye to eye, but...”

”Shut up, mage, you and your kind caused this in the first place!”

”The actions of your sister and former master don’t give you the right to comdemn all of us!” the mage proved to have quite a short temper too.

Fenris glanced at him furiously  

”What did you expect? Magic has tainted my whole life! There’s nothing that it hasn’t touched and spoiled! And now”, his voice softened as he turned back towards Nyra who hadn’t enough strenght left to even keep her eyes open, ”and now it has caused pain for the only one I... I...”

 

Finding himself at a loss of words, Fenris bowed his head, stood up **,** and while his companions watched, walked out of the tavern. Nyra didn’t see him go as her eyes were already closed.

_Fen...ris..._

Then her muscles jerked once, and her head rested on Varric’s lap with all its weight. Maybe Falon’Din would come for her and guide her home.

 

_Home._


	7. This doubt that harrows me

_Where am I? Can’t keep my eyes open..._

_Is that blood running down my face?_

_Some calling out to me... Ma lath..._

_What happened?_

_***_

Nyra sprang up from the table she had been laid on and winced from the memory of the pain which wasn’t there anymore. As she gradually regained her eyesight, she started to look around with her head turning like that of an alarmed owl.

”Careful there”, a gentle voice soothed her, ”if you continue to turn your head like that, I’ll have to heal you again.”

Nyra’s eyes went wide and she froze at first, but after a moment of disorientation she awakened to the present again and was able to focus her gaze to the direction of the voice. It belonged to the blond-haired mage who travelled with Hawke.

”What happened?” she asked to obtain some clarity amidst her confusion.

”You suffered a blow to your head when you hit the floor”, Anders explained to her **,** ”Hawke and others helped me to bring you safely to my clinic after your angsty lover bolted fr...”

”What he means to say is that Fenris was too distraught by the incident that he couldn’t bring you here himself”, another familiar voice suddenly cut in.

Nyra turned to look at Varric who stood a few feet away from her.

”Where is he?” was the first thing that came to her mind, ”is he alright?”

Varric and Anders shared a knowing look **,** but she didn’t notice it as she stared at the dwarf steadfastly with concern shining from her silvery eyes.

”He’s alright”, he told her, ”I promise.”

Nyra nearly closed her eyes when she bowed her head in realisation.

”But... He isn’t here?”

Varric shook his head.

”I’m sorry, Cherry.”

 

What was going on? Everything had went brilliantly between them so far, right?

_Right?_

Nyra brought her knees close to her chest, folded her arms around them, and stared at her feet. She felt hollow in her heart. Why would Fenris leave just like that? Didn’t he love her?

_No, no **.** Don’t be stupid! _

Reason and emotions clashed within the young elf’s mind. She felt betrayed and abandoned, but something still stubbornly kept reminding her that there was always a reason for everything – especially in this case there had to be one. Perhaps Fenris had experienced something similar to what had happened to herself when she had seen her horrific nightmare?  Perhaps...?

                      When Nyra suddenly felt how a warm sturdy hand reached for one of hers, she shook away the thoughs that tried to keep pesting her and turned to look at Varric who had moved to stand beside the table she sat on.  

”If there’s anything you need, just let me know”, he offered.

Nyra stared at him blankly for a while before she managed to ask for what she wanted the most at the moment.

”I wanna go home.”

 

***

 

It was an early morning in Kirkwall when an elf and a dwarf walked along the city’s streets. Anders had agreed to accompany them through Dark Town in case of thugs that usually stalked there, but he had left them when they had reached the stairs leading into Lowtown. Nyra had walked silently beside Varric all the way already, but now that they were about to pass the Hanged Man, she also turned her gaze to the ground. She wasn’t sure if she could work there anymore. Though she had been able to become in terms with what had happened to Nyssa and wasn’t afraid to walk through the Alienage at nights **,** last evening could leave such scars on her heart that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to step into the damned tavern ever again. It was the place where Nyra had seen Fenris for the first time, and their first kiss... The memories made her shudder when happiness and sorrow took turns within her. What if she would never see him again, or to be put more accurately **,** did _he_ want to see _her_ ever again? Nyra knew that there was no wish greater in her mind at the moment than to see those green eyes and tentative smile of his again, that and an explanation: she wanted to undestand why he had left.

                      After descending the stairs which led to the narrow market place behind the Hanged Man, Nyra finally dared to raise her head and look forward again. What she saw first was a group of guards on their morning patrol, and one of them greeted Varric as they passed by. Nyra glanced at the dwarf questioningly.

”Who was that man with dark brown hair?” she inquired to get something else to think about for a moment.

”Oh, you mean Donnic? He’s the husband of the captain of the guard.”

”You mean the woman who Hawke mentioned in the story about how he came to Kirkwall?”

”Yup, the very same. Her name is Aveline, ” Varric gave a short laugh, ”you should have seen how she tried to catch that poor guy! She gave him marigolds made out of copper, and then...”

”So she is no better in the affairs of love than I am”, Nyra interrupted him with a short miserable laugh of her own, ”or not. At least she managed to land a husband whereas I am... alone.”

                      The young elf’s already slow pace came to a halt, and she wrapped her arms around herself for solace. She felt how tears were trying to rise to her eyes, but they were disrupted when she heard Varric’s voice again.

”Don’t blame yourself”, he told her, ”Fenris has always been a difficult one, like a porcupine: if you get too close too fast he’ll sting you. Actually, you were the first one _he_ was willing to get closer to himself – and how fast! All I had to do was to nudge him in the right direction.”

When Nyra turned to look at the dwarf in surprise, she saw how he winked at her. Her lips parted as she was about to speak though she was unsure of what to say.

” _The first one”? So he has never..? But why? But he... Oh **.**    _

”Does it have something to do with”, she paused for a minute, ”for him having been a slave?”

”I guess being forced to go through something like that leaves its mark on one’s personality.”

”And marks of different kind”, Nyra said partly to herself while rubbing her shoulder, ”what an _idiot_ have I been!”

Varric had barely time to turn around before a pair of hands landed on his shoulders.

”Please, Varric, I have to find him!” the young elf begged with sudden desperation.

The dwarf looked baffled for a moment, but grabbed the moment soon and gave her an apologizing look.

”I think that the best thing we can give him right now is time, Cherry”, he expressed his opinion, ”he’ll show up once he has recovered.”

Nyra felt an urge to argue, but after giving the matter a short thought she just lowered her gaze, discouraged. Seeing her disappointment, Varric pressed his hand comfortingly on one of hers.

”Come, let’s take you home.”

 

It had been quiet save for the occasional sounds made by seagulls. Nyra’s demeanor had resembled that of a chained prisoner while she had followed Varric to the Alienage. When approaching her home, she had felt hopeful for finding Fenris there, but after opening the door to her apartment and finding no one there, she had admitted that her hope had been exaggerated and pointless. Varric had offered to stay with her, but she had politely declined, and so the front door had been where he had left her. Before that, however, he had told her that there was someone living upstairs who he called ”Daisy”, and she would surely help her if she needed any help or just someone to talk to. Nyra had managed a warm smile and thanked him kindly for all what he and the others had done for her, and assured him that everything was alright – she had told that to herself as well.

 

But after Varric left, after closing the door, after lighting up a candle and sitting on her bed, Nyra felt a painful clench in her heart when the lie which she had kept repeating to herself finally vanished and the only thing left was the truth: nothing was alright **.** She didn’t know where Fenris was, nor did she know if there would be them anymore ever again. And when her tears finally were free to fall, they sang the now bittersweet words she had said at the tavern for the first time. _Ma lath._


	8. Questions yet to be answered

Nyra was a mess. She had tried to get some sleep, but she had only ended up lying awake on the bed until evening. She had stared at the ceiling and listened to the sounds coming from every possible direction. She could have sworn she heard an ever slight knock once, but when there had been no others to follow it, she had just dismissed it as a product of her own imagination. She had wondered Fenris’ whereabouts over and over again to the point where the only feeling left was misery. Was he coming for her, or had he left the city for good? She needed to know the truth, and with that goal as the only clear thing in her exhausted mind, Nyra walked to door and stepped outside, hoping that part of the answer she was seeking for would be that neither of them needed to be alone ever again.

 

A lonely pale figure wandered in the labyrinth known as Kirkwall’s streets. Nyra was starving and thirsty, but she refused to acknowledge it. Her hair was tangled and there were dark circles under her eyes, but she was awake and walking determinately towards her destination, namely a certain mansion in Hightown. When she finally stopped by its front door, she pressed her right palm against its worn yet smooth surface, but did little else: she hesitated like Fenris had done at the tavern. The uncertainty... Nyra furrowed, took a deep breath, and then clenched her hand into a fist. She had sworn not to give into fear ever again, and she wouldn’t break that promise now.

 

The muffled wooden echo went silent yet again. There hadn’t been an answer to the several knocks on the mansion’s door, but Nyra wasn’t willing to give up easily, so she knocked again, again, and again. After she had knocked for nearly the twentieth time, though, she finally lowered her hand and pressed her forehead against the door. Maybe Fenris wasn’t home, or he just wasn’t ready to open the door to anyone yet. A single tear dropped to the ground beside Nyra’s feet. She felt so guilty at the moment that she could have just dropped to her knees and crumbled like a dying leaf. How could she even have thought that Fenris would be so cruel to abandon her just like that? Old traumas, when strong enough, could easily incapacitate a person, and she should know that better than most. Fenris had been a slave, whereas she had just nearly been one, and what his sister had done that he hated her so much, she could only imagine. Not even Varric had told her anything about the warrior’s past, so in order to know, she had to ask him herself. Until then, she would forbid herself from wondering, from feeling any pain for things that weren’t lost to her yet– there would time for that later if needed to.

                      Having momentarily being distraught by her thoughts, Nyra hadn’t paid any attention to her surroundings and thus she hadn’t seen how someone had stopped just a couple of steps away from her, observing her from a distance **.**

”Are you lost?” the stranger asked.

Nyra braced herself and turned around immediately. She didn’t recognize the voice nor the man who it belonged to. He was a local noble by the looks of him: he had fine clothes, a short slicked back hair, and there was constant smugness emerging from beneath his every expression **.** Nyra eyed the stranger with suspicion.

”Why would I be lost?” she snapped at him, showing that it would be good for his health to back away.

The man ignored her stance and smiled in a smooth devious manner.

”Elves rarely come to these parts of the city unless they are servants, and if you were one, you’d have an access to this house, yes?”

The man stepped closer.

”I’m not a servant.”

”Really? Then what are you? A beggar? A thief? A courtesan? Don’t tell me this is a social call.”

”My business isn’t yours, shem”, Nyra hissed, pressing her back tightly against the door.

She realised that, despite the occasional bypassers, no one was going to intervene and help her. With that and her recent memories awakening the nearly forgotten prejudices towards humans she had been taught as a child, blood began to boil in the her veins, and the very though that had driven her to take rash action at the Hanged man rose to her lips like a warcry.  

”Never again.”

                      Nyra slashed at the noble’s face with her fingernails, causing him to back away from her with a yelp **.** Before he had even the briefest time to recover and try to take his vengeance on her **,** however, someone brought a sword to his throat. The man glanced at the shiny steel, but seemed unmoved by it.

”What’s this?” he jeered, obviously belittling the threat, ”I see you’re lucky enough to have friends, knife-ear.”

However insulting those words may have been **,** Nyra disregarded them as her gaze was locked to the two green eyes which flamed with barely restrained rage behind the man’s left shoulder.

”She is lucky indeed”, a low voice rumbled, ” _you,_ on the other hand...”

The blade pressed the man’s throat more firmly now, leaving a red mark on his skin. Only then he began to understand his mistake, and his arrogance vanished into thin air **.**

”I’m... sorry, yes, _sorry_. This will _never_ happen again.”

”Better not **”,** the growling behind him continued while the blade of a long two-handed sword moved to block the path between him and the young elf, ”begone, and don’t let me find you near her ever again.”

”Yes, yes, of course”, the noble said while he took a step back with his hands infront of him as a futile shield, ” _I’m sorry_.”

 

The echo of the steps of the fleeing noble was accompanied by the sound of a sheathing sword. Making sure that the man was gone for good, Fenris turned to Nyra, but kept his head bowed so that his face remained hidden behind his white hair.

”Did he touch you?” his voice was tentative, yet full of care and concern.

”Fenris...” his name escaped Nyra’s lips intead of an answer.

Her breath quickened when the warrior raised his gaze slowly to meet hers. There was such sadness hidden in his eyes that it made Nyra’s heart ache. Oh, how she would have wanted to embrace him, to console him with her touch – but she didn’t dare. Like Varric had said: the best thing to be given to Fenris right now would be time, and no matter how much it pained her to obey, she kept to that advice. While a gentle breeze touched her skin, she watched and waited in silence for the warrior to speak.

”I”, Fenris began, casting a brief side-glance on the paved street while thinking of what to say, ”I’m glad to see that you’re alright.”

Though they didn’t sound like much, his words made Nyra’s heart melt as it had felt frozen since the moment she had woken at the clinic without him. 

”I was worried about you”, she told him, holding back the tears that tried to rise to her eyes.  

”I - I was... Do you want to come in?” the warrior offered.  

Nyra gave him a small, undestanding smile.

”If you allow me.”

After she complied, the door was opened with no delay.

”I would be a fool not to.”

                     

The great main hall felt colder than before. Not even the familiarity of the touch of the soft grasslike carpet didn’t bring the same joy it used to. Nyra looked around, feeling lost amidst the emptiness of the room. Searching for a way to ease her nervousness, she focused her gaze randomly to a painting which presented a view over a lake. Fenris appeared to stand beside her, but when she didn’t turn her gaze away from her focus point, he directed his own to the same direction.  

”Do you need something? Food, perhaps?” he asked to break the silence.

”No, thank you”, Nyra’s voice sounded so fragile that anything could have shattered it instantly, and yet she held it together.

Fenris bowed his head, looking ashamed and hesitant **.**

”I know what you want, and I owe it to you”, he told her after a brief moment of silence, causing her to glance up at him with a shiver running down her spine.

”Then what do I want?” she asked, her voice now trembling with a mix of anxiousness and fear.

”An explanation.”

                      Nyra felt breathless, and her heartbeat peaked so violently that she could have fainted. While she stood there, unable to say anything, Fenris took a step forward and furrowed in concentration.

”You know now that I was a slave once”, he began to explain, ”infact, I was that all my life until I finally managed to run away from my master.”

”Danarius”, Nyra unintentionally whispered the name of the now deceased mage aloud.

Hearing the name being said, Fenris’ stance changed, and he seemed more petrified rather than focused, hiding his face behind his hair again.

”Yes”, he continued after a while with a hint of bitterness in his voice, ”Danarius. I was just an obedient pet to him. I did everything I was told to do: pour wine for his guests, kill his enemies, and... other things. He even branded lyrium into my very flesh to make me more useful.”

                      Nyra observed how the warrior raised his left hand and touched the markings on it with the other. Seeing how a grimace of discomfort took over his face when he did so, she took a quick short step forward and took his left arm between her hands as gently as she could. He winced from the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull his arm away from her grasp. His tattoos that had started to glow blue turned dim again as he calmed down.

”These hurt, don’t they?” Nyra asked, following the patterns on his arms with her gaze.

”Sometimes”, he admitted, staring at the delicate hands touching his skin, ”you made me feel like the pain had never existed, that perhaps there was some happiness left for me in this world. But after my master came back and you got hurt - _after_ _my own sister_ _hurt you **,**_ I was devastated. The shame of bringing you into such danger.. It was too much to bear.”

Nyra listened to Fenris while her feelings made her feel as if she was caught in a riptide. She felt sad for everything he had had to go through, and yet his words brought her immense joy because they answered the question that had haunted her since waking up at the clinic: he _did_ care for her. That thought made a small smile appear to the young elf’s lips, and she finally dared to touch him properly by pressing her right hand comfortingly on his cheek.

”Shh, ma lath”, she consoled him, ”I’m here now, and I will never go away unless you want me to.”

                      Whether it had been her words or something else, Fenris suddenly moved out of Nyra’s reach. She lowered her hand slowly when she was left staring at him, confused. She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she?

”It would be safer for you to leave me”, Fenris said while keeping his own gaze to the floor, ”I have nothing to offer you besides the unhappiness that seems to follow me wherever I go. And magic... You were nearly killed because of me! I couldn’t bare the though of losing you to something that has haunted me my whole life!”

Nyra didn’t know what to say, and it left her standing still infront of him with sudden sorrow creeping through her mind. Her own encounter with the slavers had taught her harshly the meaning of pain, but when she thought about how Fenris’ had lived his life before coming to Kirkwall, she began to feel different kind of pain born out of compassion. To live like he had, as a tool to be used without any choice given was just...

”Horrible”, she finished her sentence aloud though her voice was barely audible.

With his ears catching the faint sound of her voice, Fenris raised his head a bit.

”I won’t blame you if you want to leave”, he told her, ”it’s what any reasonable person _should_ do.”

”Then let me be unreasonable”, Nyra said and took a determinate step forward, ”tel’ha'lam'shiremah, vhenan.”

With those words, she was finally allowed to gaze into the green eyes of the man she had just called her heart without being denied shortly afterwards. Fenris stared at her in question.

”What did you just...?”

Nyra flashed him a warm loving smile when she reached him and pressed her palms on his cheeks again. This time he didn’t back away.

”I won’t abandon you, my heart”, she repeated in the common tongue with her eyes glistening with silent hope.

Fenris’ face softened, and the tenderness she had seen in his eyes so many times before was lit again like a gentle flame of a candle.

”Do you want to know what I thought about when I was away from you, not knowing what may come next?” he asked her quietly while he took her in his arms.

Nyra buried her face against him.

”Tell me.”  

”When Varric arranged a private meeting for us... It was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Warmth began to tingle on Nyra’s cheeks.

”There’s path to follow, isn’t there?” she whispered to him, causing the warrior to embrace her like he had done never before.

”It is, and I’ll gladly follow it with you by my side.”


	9. The words I want to hear

****Flames crackled joyously in the fireplace. Fenris sat down on the carpet beside Nyra after adding more wood to the fire. During the evening, he had told her about his past, even things he claimed not to have told to anyone before **:** about his stay in Seheron, how he had slain the fog warriors when Danarius came to retrieve him, his escape... and his family.

                      The last story corcerning Fenris’ family had been one to make Nyra’s skin crawl. The warrior had grown extremely mistrustful of mages during his time as a slave, but his sister had taken another path. Being a mage herself, she had honed her skills in peace and quiet until one day when one of the other slaves had found her during one of her practice sessions and accused her of trying to suck up to Danarius to gain his favor, she had scorched the poor woman alive. Fenris had witnessed what his sister had done, and he had even helped her to dispose of the body, making her swear afterwards that it would never happen again. But when he had seen how she became friends with their master’s cruel apprentice, Hadriana, he knew he had to something in order to prevent the situation from getting worse. When Danarius had declared that there was to be a competion with his favor and a boon as the prize, Fenris had decided to seize the opportunity to be able to save her mother and sister from the effects the life in the magister’s house could have on them in the long run. At that point of the story he had revealed that he had actually competed to obtain the lyrium markings he now carried on his skin. With his triumph, he had also received the promised boon of his choice which he had used to free his family. His request had thrown his sister into unprecedented rage, and if their mother hadn’t stopped her, she would surely have killed him. When they had finally left Danarius’ estate, Fenris had forgiven his sister, but also sworn that if he happened to see that she was still the same should they meet ever again, he would let her out of her madness, and he had kept that promise.

 

Such was part of the reason why the warrior hated magic and mages so much: magic had driven his once innocent sister mad, and if it happened to her, why couldn’t it happen to anyone with magical talents? Magic had left his life in shambles, and there was nothing for him to recover – not anymore.

 

Nyra sat still in front of the fireplace, staring at the dancing flames. Fenris’ sudden openness about his past had left her speechless. Had he chosen to forget all those rotten things in his past to start anew and not to speak about them ever again, or had he simply suffered from a memory loss? Whatever the truth, why did he trust _her_ with the most painful memories of his life? He had known Hawke and others so much longer than he had known her, and he hadn’t even told her whether he...

_Never mind_ , Nyra drove the though off and glanced absent-mindedly at a dusty book lying on the floor near her.

Fenris might not have said the words she subconsciously wanted to hear, but she knew that actions spoke often more than words. 

_Still, maybe I should...?_

                      When the young elf’s mind started to wander off, a strong battle-roughened hand turned her face towards those framed by short white hair. Fenris appeared as serious as always, but there was also something hidden in his eyes, something untamed and fiery. It had always been there, but this time it was different.

”Is something bothering you?” the warrior asked, his voice deep and husky.

Nyra gave him a small insecure smile.

”I’m fine, really”, she assured him, ”I’m just a bit shaken about what you told me about your life before.”

”That’s a little contradictory, you know”, he hummed.

_I know, but how does someone tell a thing like... this?_

                      Despite the determination which had brought her here in the first place, Nyra was at a loss of words and wasn’t able to say anything, but the blush on her cheeks told Fenris more than words she may have spoken next. This time he was the one to give her an understanding smile, the kind she had given him many times before **.** Perhaps the thought was in his mind as well.

”Don’t worry, vhenan”, he told her, ”I know what you’re trying to say.”

_”Vhenan”?_

Nyra’s silvery eyes widened when she stared at Fenris, surprised by both hearing him call her his heart as well as by the empathy and understanding in his words.

”You encouraged me to speak my mind once, and now I’m choosing to take that as an advice”, the warrior told her, grazing her left cheek lightly with his free hand while answering her gaze with warm intensity, ”you’re unlike any woman I have ever met, Nyra. When Varric and others began to imply that you watched me with every chance you got, it made me wonder why would someone ever do that, especially in the way you did **.** You didn’t want anything _,_ you just... _admired._ No one has ever shown such gratuitous infatuation towards me. Then that one night at the Alienage, I saw how you stood strong against the blood mage and his demons, and even when... when my sister...”

”Shh”, Nyra calmed him when his speech began to break off, ”it wasn’t your fault, ma lath.”

                      Fenris stared at his beloved in silence, eventually focusing his gaze to her right eyebrow, touching it lightly with one of his fingers to trace down the faint remnants of the scar she had gotten from Varania. Nyra didn’t realise why he did so at first, but when she did, she tried to hide her face from him in shame. She had forgotten about the scar **:** she hadn’t even seen how did it look like. She had shown Fenris some of the cuts made on her skin by the slavers, but they were easy to hide. This one was on her face after all. Perhaps he didn’t like what he saw?

_Oh, don’t be stupid_ , Nyra tried to reason with herself, _he wouldn’t be here if it was **so** hideous! ...right? _

_*sigh*_

Since when had she become so insecure about how she looked like? It was only a mark, just a line on her face...

                      When Nyra began to sank deep into the depths of her mind, Fenris’ touch was the lifeline that pulled her up. Her eyes went wide when she felt how a warm hand touched her left shoulder on the spot where it was bare, causing a shivering sensation course through her entire body. There was a tender gaze in the two green eyes with a hidden fervour deep beneath it. It made Nyra realise that her worries had been for nothing, and the warm feeling developing inside her washed the remnants of doubt completely away. She sought support from the floor with her right hand, and a shivering breath escaped her lips when she stared at the warrior. When Fenris began to lean towards her and their lips were about to touch, Nyra pressed her eyes closed. Everything felt so blissfully unreal, but then...

 

_*rrrrrrrrrrrrrip*_

 

The sudden sound made Nyra open her eyes again. Fenris had stopped moving towards her and was now staring at her shoulder. A blush rose to Nyra’s cheeks. The dress she was wearing was old, worn, and it had probably gotten a little burned during the fight at the Hanged Man – but now it was also torn on the collar. The soiled white fabric had given in due to stretching caused by the right sleeve being caught between the floor and Nyra’s palm, leaving her left shoulder now more bare than before. The scars on her skin became visible, but she was rather excited by the incident rather than embarrassed. She remained quiet, glancing at the torn collar before turning back to Fenris. The fervour she had seen burning in his eyes was no longer hidden **,** and it made his gaze appear darker than before. Nyra held her breath when he brought his lips near her shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss on top of the scars.

”I wonder where these lead”, he purred, his tone deep and suggestive.

For once, Nyra didn’t feel nervous nor shy at all, the silver in her eyes mixing into the warrior’s green.

”I could show you”, she replied, raising her left shoulder coyly.

Fenris smirked and began to move towards her so that she got layed down and pressed against the carpet, caught between his arms. His tattoos glowed dimly blue under his thin green shirt when he lowered himself on Nyra **.**

”Perhaps I’ll take the pleasure of finding out by myself”, the warrior purred once more  before he captured her mouth into a kiss, causing passion to break free within her to be joined with his.

 

And in that moment, Nyra knew that this was them, this was the truth, and there were no more words needed.


	10. Adventures and hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, it took so long to get this chapter posted... Sorry about that. :/ I'll have more time to concentrate on writing now, at least for the time being. :)

The ashes in the fireplace had turned cold a good while ago. Sunlight streamed into the bedroom through the skylight window, goldening the forms of the two elves who rested entwined on a large carpet. Nyra was already awake, but she hadn’t opened her eyes yet. She was content there, lying by Fenris’ side and listening to his breathing **.** There was nothing she could have wanted more right now than to be allowed to remain there for the rest of the day and the next, just listening to him, being next to him skin to skin... That would be enough, that would make her whole and unbreakable.  

                      Time had lost its meaning for Nyra who didn’t realise that she had been smiling nearly constantly since waking up **.** Even when Fenris’ steady breathing rhythm broke and he moved slightly beside her, she was too carried away by the moment to acknowledge that he was awake too.

”Why are you smiling?” he asked, his voice deep and humming.  

Nyra refused to lift her head off his chest **,** widening her smile instead.

”Shouldn’t I?” she countered his question with one of her own. 

The warrior gave a soft laugh while he ran his fingers through her hair.

”If that smile of yours was to leave an imprint on my skin, I would carry it as a badge of honor.”

Though the words were meant as a loving joke, they also reminded Nyra of something. She raised herself a bit to be able to see her love’s face.

”I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she worried, meaningfully directing her gaze towards one of the branches of his markings.

Fenris glanced aside with a sad pensive look on his face.

”Don’t worry about it”, he reassured her, ”most of the scars I have aren’t discernible **.”**

Noticing the warrior’s omission concerning physical discomfort, Nyra didn’t believe him, and she felt a prick of conscience.  

”I don’t want to hurt you. If last night caused you more pain than pleasure, then we...”

Before the young elf got to finish her sentence, the warrior’s eyes demanded her attention, and she quickly got lost into their green swirls.

”Don’t ever think that”, he told her firmly, ”feeling your touch on my skin last night... It was better than anything I could ever have dreamed.”

                      Nyra was still certain that there was something Fenris was not telling her, but there was such sincerity in his words that she knew that he wasn’t lying either. She smiled at him lovingly while she raised her hand to caress his right cheek. Fenris was definitely the most curious man she had ever met **:** his past made him sensitive, reserved, and suspicious, but beneath those things and others, Nyra found a loving man who would die to protect her, and she knew that she would do the same for him if needed to **.** With that thought warming her heart she decided to let their previous discussion be for now, focussing on their mutual feeling of bliss instead.

”I never dared to even dream about this moment”, she confessed, her voice a mere whisper.

”But it’s not a dream”, Fenris replied, grazing her skin with his knuckles, ”this is real.”

”Then why do I feel like I was still asleep?”

”Because it’s the best kind of reality, Arasha*.”

Nyra couldn’t help but chuckle out of surprise.

”That one I didn’t teach you”, she noted, ”where have you learned Elvish?”

”There are a few benefits to serving a magister”, the warrior smirked though the subject was so delicate that it immediately cast a shadow over him, ”but that doesn’t make it any better.”

                      Anticipating how talking about his past could change the atmosphere of the moment, Fenris seemed to disregard the feelings caused by his past that tried to haunt him. Perhaps he had learned to do so over those long years he had lived as a slave, or perhaps he did so for the first time in his life and solely for Nyra **.** There was no need to wonder about the truth, however, as it was revealed by the look in his eyes which softened immediately after he found hers.

”There are ghosts in my past, but you have shown me that there is something better waiting for me, something I didn’t even believe possible until I met you”, Fenris told his love, ”there is still a future for me to be had – with you.”

Nyra stared at him, her face beaming with love and joy. She didn’t say anything, pressing her lips against Fenris’ instead as no words were needed. Why speak when her touch already told him everything she wanted to say? 

 

***

 

Lanterns were lit along Kirkwall’s streets as the purple dusk turned into a starry night **.** After the incident that had occurred a few days back, the Hanged Man had remained closed until tonight **.** Due to the familiar racket and laughter echoing all over the place one might think that nothing bad had ever happened, and yet something was a bit off: Varric wasn’t sitting downstairs in his regular table as he had decided to remain in his room upstairs for the night. The dwarf had settled himself in an armchair near the statue in the corner while his companions sat on large piles of cushions as if they had been in Antiva or other place as exotic. It was a rare occasion for sure as Varric didn’t usually invite people into his room for cozy social evenings because it also served as his office from which he masterminded the operations of his spy network - or so the story went. On this evening, however, it was meant to be a meeting place for old friends, as well as new ones.

                      Nyra had gotten to meet Merrill, a Dalish mage who was one of Hawke’s travelling companions, and as it turned out, she was also the one who Varric called ”Daisy”. It was nearly certain that they had seen each other already in the Alienage, but Merrill pointed out that she hadn’t stepped outside her home lately as she had been feverishly trying to restore an actual Eluvian. Nyra hadn’t encountered any Dalish in ages **,** so she enjoyed talking with her, even if she was a mage. Despite what had happened at the tavern with Danarius and Varania, she wasn’t as suspicious towards magic as Fenris, but she understood his prejudices more than well. If she had been forced to endure the same ordeals he had, she would surely be just like him. With things being as they were, however, Nyra was more than happy to tell Merrill what she remembered about her clan as well as hear about hers. They were both Dalish and away from their kin - perhaps they could learn from each other.

 

As the night progressed, Varric rose up with a cup of wine in his hand. Everyone in the room turned their attention to him and waited in respective silence for the speech he was obviously about to give.

”Well, I’m glad to see you all here”, the dwarf began, ”although Blondie is conspicuously absent and Aveline had some cityguard things to do...”

”Yeah, right”, Isabela sniggered, leaning against Hawke who sat beside her, ”she’s too busy guarding Donnic’s pole.”

”A pole?” Merrill asked innocently, ”is it a maypole? I saw some humans dance around one during a party. Do they have a party? Why weren’t we invited?”  

”No, Kitten, they don’t have a party”, the Rivaini rogue consoled her with chuckle, ”it’s not that kind of pole.”

                      Despite all the quiet snickering and grinning the joke had caused, Varric dismissed it with a sigh and shook his head.

”Where was I...” he tried to recall the words he had been about to say, only to be cut off again by Isabela.

”Pole”, the pirate giggled, showing that she had obviously continued the joke in her mind.

As she and Hawke suddenly burst into shameless laughter, the dwarf gave them a disgruntled look.

”Damn, Rivaini, could you sit and listen to what I have to say, just this once?” he huffed.

”Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport, Varric, it was just a joke!”

Varric’s dismay turned into a chuckle because of Isabela’s exaggerated way of speech.  

”I know. Just let me finish, okay?” he requested and waited for her to nod before even considering to continue, ”well then, since we’re here, I’d like to make a toast for a couple of reasons: first, we still haven’t properly celebrated the fact that Hawke was named the Champion of our humble city.”

The mage raised his cup towards his friend as a sign of gratitude.

”I couldn’t have made it without you, Varric”, he commended, ”if you hadn’t helped me and my brother to join Bartrand’s expedition, we’d probably still be working for Athenril.”

”Knowing you, I doubt that”, the dwarf gave a laugh, ”but you’re welcome. Getting nearly eaten by darkspawn always brightens the day, does it not?”

”Just add a dragon or two to it and it sounds perfect.”

                      The talk about dragons and other creatures equally terrifying or gruesome lead to a friendly banter between the Champion and the dwarf, involving subjects such as getting nearly stomped by an ogre or blown up by renegade qunari. When they ran out of enemies, as it were, Varric finally turned to address everyone again. Nyra shifted nervously when she saw the look on his face which was directed towards her and Fenris.

_Please don’t, please don’t_ , she begged in her mind and shook her head.

”We should also be thankful that Cherry is still with us”, Varric began despite her silent objection and gave her a reassuring smile, ”without Blon... Well, without the help given it might not be possible.”

                      At that point Nyra instinctively glanced at Fenris because of whom Varric had made an omission in his words. There was a disgusted grimace on the warrior's face, brought forth by a mere hint of mentioning magic used on his love. She had been nearly killed by a mage, yes, but on the other hand, she had also been rescued by one. Even Fenris seemed to acknowledge it as his emerging anger faded away, and the dwarf dared to continue his speech.

”She would be a good rogue, you know. Not every day does one steal a porcupine’s heart.”

 

_Oh gods..._

 

There was no laughter to follow Varric’s words, but they still made Nyra blush so intensely that her cheeks burned **.** She had had minor difficulties with anxiety in social situations since she had been taken away from her clan. It mostly manifested itself as shyness, which had noticeably abated after she started to spend time with Fenris daily, but sometimes being made the center of attention served the same purpose – just like it did know. But whereas Nyra tried to conceal her embarrassment **,** Fenris leaned casually forward and remained exceptionally calm.

”Is that what you call me nowadays?” he asked, staring at Varric, ”a porcupine?”

”What’s this?” the dwarf smirked, ”no brooding?”

The warrior grunted dismissingly.

”I may be a porcupine if you say so”, he replied and leaned backwards to take his love to his arms, smirking more widely than Varric did afterwards, ”but at least I’m a happy one.”

                      Surprised by the Fenris’ reaction, Nyra raised her gaze in amazement, her eyes resembling a pair of bright crystals. She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of change the warrior had underwent: he was still himself, but there was also something _soft_ in him - understanding and calmness. He had shown those qualities in her presence of course, but to manifest them so openly in front of others was just... unexpected.

”I’m happy for you both”, she heard Varric’s voice from behind the veil of her thoughts, ”we all are.”

”We are”, Hawke concurred although a bit absent-mindedly as he had turned to look lovingly at Isabela.

There was a small insecure smile on Nyra’s lips while she looked around the room, but in the end she relaxed and pressed herself more tightly against Fenris.

”Ma Serannas”, her thanks were meant for everyone though her gaze was focused on Varric to make the next words more personal, ”for everything.”  

The dwarf smiled at her.

”Anytime, Cherry”, he said, ”anytime.”

                     

It was extremely probable that the night would get considerably prolonged as Varric couldn’t resist the opportunity to spin a tale for the occasion, but no one minded **.** This time he told others about a dwarf who had tried to trick the Merchant’s Guild with rather poor results. Before the story reached its climax, however, it got interrupted when Merrill, who had been deep in her thoughts for a good long while now, suddenly sprang up with her face glowing with joy.

”Oh, oh, I know!” she exclaimed, ”I know what kind of pole you meant! It’s Donnic’s...”

The mage fell silent when she noticed how everybody stared at her, looking thunderstruck.

”I’m sorry”, she apologized and blushed.

Isabela nudged Hawke with her right elbow when the silence began to turn into snickering which soon escalated into hilarious laughter.

”See? I told you she’d figure it out sooner or later.”   

 

.....................................

_*Arasha=my happiness_


	11. Epilogue: Amid chaos and strife

The tension between Kirkwall’s Circle and the Templar Order grew considerably in the following months. It reached its breaking point when Anders, the very same mage who had once saved Nyra’s life **,** blew up the local chantry with the Grand Cleric still inside **.** The mage was immediately exiled for what he had done, but the city itself still got drowned under tides of blood flowing on its streets as mages and templars clashed against each other. With the help of his remaining companions, his Grey Warden brother, and one infamous Crow assassin, Hawke made a stand against the reigning chaos to save innocents caught in the middle. First, they headed for the Gallows to find the First Enchanter to try to reason with him, but after fighting off groups of abominations and blood mages to get to him, they came to realise that it was too late. When they found Orsino from the mages’ hall, he was surrounded by numerous corpses of his brethren which he then used to transform himself into a harvester. Forcing Hawke and others to fight to the death, there was nothing to be done to save him anymore.

                      Everyone thought that the situation would became more controllable after Orsino’s death, but when Hawke and others entered the Gallows courtyard to meet with the templars, things took an unexpected turn: Knight-Commander Meredith turned against the Champion, crazed by the red lyrium-infused sword she carried. Before the situation could get any further, however, Meredith’s second-in-command stepped in. Angered by his disobedience, the Knight-Commander sank ever deeper into the madness that possessed her, determined to kill every mage still alive within the city’s walls **.** At that point the remaining templars weren’t willing to obey their commander anymore, but she refused to turn from the path she had chosen. The red lyrium granted her power to awaken the nearby statues to fight for her against the Champion and his allies, but it still wasn’t enough. As the battle didn’t turn to her advantage and every last statue lied broken around the courtyard, Meredith made one last desperate attempt to win, but her sword couldn’t withstand the corruption sealed within it any longer and shattered in her hands **.** The essence of the red lyrium was released into the air, and Hawke and others watched Meredith scream in agony when it took over her body and turned her into a smoldering statue. With her death, the battle was finally over.

 

On that day, Hawke was celebrated as a revered hero. His name became a legend standing for justice and equality, and of course it didn’t hurt his reputation when he became the main character of Varric’s bestseller as well.  

 

 ***

 

With peace restored and Hawke appointed as the new Viscount, Kirkwall began to recover from the damage the event later known as the Kirkwall Rebellion had caused. Most of the Champion’s companions, like Isabela, stayed with him in the city, helping him rebuild it in their own ways. Nyra and Fenris also remained in Kirkwall for a month or so, still living in their own seperate homes though Varric kept telling everyone that they were practically living together as he saw the warrior ”sneaking into their love nest” every night. When the Kirkwall City Guard traced a group of slavers to the Wounded Coast, Fenris expressed his willingness to help them find those culprits, and Nyra joined him in his task without hesitation. From that day on, they hunted down slavers around Thedas though they always returned to Kirkwall now and then, especially if their friends were in need of help **.**

 

As far as things usually go, however, they have the tendency to change.

 

When Varric vanishes a couple of years later without saying anything, and Nyra and Fenris set off to find him, neither of them could ever have suspected what was to happen when their search leads them to the other side of the Waking Sea.

There should be no magisters in Ferelden.

There should be no massive tear in the sky.

And there most certainly should be no magical mark on the left hand of the only woman Fenris has ever dared to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well... It seems that our angsty, handsome warrior is about to face something he didn't expect. His love was not supposed to have magical talents of any kind, after all. Will he regret that he let himself fall in love with her so easily?  
> We'll see.
> 
> \-------------------------  
> P.S. Thank you all for reading. :)


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